


I guess that makes me the monster!

by hbub1201



Series: Learn as they Go [5]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, M/M, Understanding, based on the trailer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 06:59:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5617609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hbub1201/pseuds/hbub1201
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically the next few weeks are going to go by too slowly and im too impatient to wait for more piratey goodness!</p>
<p>Based on the clip of Flint shooting a sailor as Billy watches on looking less than pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Initial Upset

"Captain?" Billy urged pleadingly, voice all but shaking. Was it a question or a hope he held in his words. A hope that this was all for show, that the captain wouldn't take it any further, that he would realise his point was made and that enough was enough.

Without even a moments hesitation, barely allowing for Billy to even get the word out, Flint had raised his pistol and unloaded a bullet straight into the skull of the young sailer on his knees before them.

Smoke drifted passed Billy as he stared between the slumping body and the man who'd caused its blood to drain. Disbelief clouded his judgement for a moment as he tried and failed to lift his eyes away from the carnage, away from the hope that it was a mistake and that the boy would rise and laugh and Flint would grumble his admonishment with words and not bullets.

Slowly his eyes moved back to Flint, he swallowed a solemn breath as his eyebrows raised in silent question. Flint was looking back at him now, not at Silver, who was stood at Billy's side looking just as uneasy, not at DeGroot or Joji or Mr Scott, who were stood behind the dead man with matching looks of horror, or at Dr Howell, who had slowed his steady approach to the corpse knowing there was nothing he could do for the poor lad now. He wasn't looking at Dooley or Muldoon, who were bracketing Silver, both looking a mixture of angry and scared. No, Flint was looking straight into Billy's eyes, no remorse or apology and no fear or indecision. But the murderous look in his eyes had also vanished, the point proving stare of his had vanished, the one that promised a score was to be settled and a lesson was to be learned. No longer did he look like a man ready to kill, neither did he look like a man who just had.

Billy shook his head silently as he exhaled, clenched his fists and looked to the sky for the briefest of moments before he looked back down to his Captain and matched the other mans stare. The moment was broken only a second later when the silence became too much for the bosun. No one was saying anything, no breaths could be heard, no protests or arguments, Flint had succeeded in silencing all of those it would seem. But no one was moving, not even the good Dr, no one was covering up the lost brother sprawled across the deck, no one was crying for him or whisering amongst themselves about the injustice of it all. Everyone was just silently watching the Captain for what came next, and the Captain was silently watching Billy, perhaps for the same reason.

Billy offered the only answer he could. Not looking at the future, looking no further than right now, Billy pushed passed Flint silently, not shattering the eery quiet through fear of what noise would ultimately follow. He barely recognised the eyes now straying from Flint toward him, he didn't ask for help or permission, or even acknowledgement he walked straight over to the gaunt figure on the floor and bent down beside him. He wasn't stupid or poetic enough to try to close the dead mans eyes, instead he brushed away the necklace that had fallen to cover his face and looked into his eyes with a whispered apology. As he rose to stand he took the boys wrists into his hands and pulled him up, lifting the man with a startling ease and carrying him in his arms as respectfully as he could manage with all eyes now fixed intently on him. The Captain didn't offer him any assistance and for that he was grateful. Assistance from him now would be more of an insult than if he had spat at the corpse as it fell. Or maybe it wouldn't have been, maybe it would have shown that the punishment was payed and that now the man had forgiveness and so peace. All Billy knew was that if Flint tried to help him now, he would probably punch his captain square between the eyes and that wouldn't do anyone any good.

He carried his lifeless brother down into the ships bowls effortlessly, knowing the ship well enough to make the journey in his sleep so not needing to see where his feet were falling to be able to navigate the bends and the steps with natural ease. He kept walking until there were no eyes or forced silences. He walked until it was just him and the boy and an old table to rest him on and an old sheet to wrap him in.

 

-X-

 

The man got his funeral. He had crossed Flint, he had jeopardised a mission, risked lives with his stupidity and questioned their Captains leadership. He had been punished, he had paid the price and in death he had made right his wrongs. He got his sea deep buriel and all the men gathered to send him on his way. It was still quiet on deck, not silent, but where most funerals at sea were a solemn event, this was more reticent, more withdrawn. Flint said the words deemed fit for him to say, the crew bowed their heads as the body fell to the depths of the ocean and afterwards everyone went slowly about there business. There was no celebration of a life no longer living, no consoling of grief stricken friends or brothers, there was no rememberence or drinking in the name of. The ceremony ended as it began, with a whisper as the Billy walked onto deck with the body, and another whisper as he strolled away again without it.

No one yet dared speak to the worryingly quiet bosun, but, at the same time, no one seemed able to take their eyes off of him either.

 

-X-

 

"We need to figure this out," Silver announced as he walked in to the Captains chambers.

Flint didn't so much as nod his acknowledgement to the other mans presence.

"Flint!" The quartermaster yelled as he got ever closer to the still seated man in front of him. "We need to sort out our next move!"

Still the captain said nothing. Silver glared at the top of the mans head for a few moments, like he could will the other man to respond, to say something. "Christ," he growled defeated, all but falling into the chair opposite the captain.

"Well you made your point," the long haired man sighed. "No more dissent against Captain Flint," he remarked sarcastically.

Flint raised his head slightly at that, finally looking at the quartermaster with an eyebrow arched in question.

"I'm not sure," he scoffed tiredly, "Just something Joji said after Billy took the body away. I don't think we're a part of that particular in-joke," he added quietly, "Which is probably why we're not laughing."

Flint looked back down and Silver grunted his anger at having lost what little attention he'd had from the older man.

Flint exhaled but put down his pen down and looked back up at his potential ally. "What's the problem?"

Silver stared in disbelief for a moment before huffing out an exaggerated laugh. "You are not that stupid," he all but shouted, raising his arms in surrender when Flint's eyes turned angry again. "Captain, you just killed a man. A man of your own crew. On deck in front of a lot of other men from your own crew. For reasons they do not fully understand. Do you not see a problem with that?"

Flint lowered his gaze again and Silver clenched his fist as he moved to raise himself from his seat to storm out.

"Are they discussing mutiny?" The captain asked calmly.

"No, quite the opposite." Silver replied snarkily.

"Then I see no problem." Flint responded simply. Silver scoffed angrily so Flint continued. "An example had to be made, I made it, the crew understood it, now its done and we can move on."

"And what about Billy?" Silver leaned forward on his arms and stared the Captain down, daring the older man to argue that particular point.

Flint, though, simply froze. How could he answer that. How could he explain that after he had shot the man who had, through his own stupidity, almost cost him his mission, his ship, his crew, who had almost cost him Billy... How could he explain that after he had put the bullet into that mans head, driven by a profound sort of anger that came as a direct response to the possibility he could have lost it all, lost Billy... That his only thought after shooting his own crewman was of his bosun. He had turned to look into the other mans eyes, shocked in his own hopes of seeing forgiveness there, or at the very least understanding. How could he explain the his only worry, albeit a profound and dangerously deep sort of anguish that he had only one memory of ever feeling before, was that when he turned to look at Billy all he would see there would be disgust. In that moment Flint had been scared. The fearless pirate captain had been petrified that this act would be the one to push Billy too far, would be the thing that proved to Billy that Flint was beyond saving, beyond loving.

"Billy was with you before, the crew were with Billy. Now you have successfully scared the crew into being with you and perhaps angered Billy the other way." Silver reasoned matter-of-factly.

Flint shook the thought immediately out of mind.

"We need Billy on side," Silver reasoned honestly.

Billy hadn't spoken to Flint since that quiet and pleading 'captain' said so softly up on deck, right before he'd raised his pistol.

"Has he spoken to you?" Silver asked.

When Billy had carried the poor boy up onto deck, wrapped in a sheet and ready for buriel, he hadn't so much as spared his Captain a glance. Nor had he so much as glanced his way throughout the entirety of the ceremony. Not when Flint spoke, not when the body was dropped, or when his belongings followed. He didn't look at him as he turned to leave or as he pushed his way through the crowd to once again descend the stairs to the lower deck. This, the Captain thought suddenly, with alarming desperation, may be the first night in a long time that Billy did not end up in his quarters.

"Has he said a-"

"No," Flint interupted shortly. Hoping his stern voice hid the panic within.

"So...?" The quartermaster asked expectantly.

"So what?" Flint returned angrily after Silver all but shoved his head across the desk in order to provoke a response.

"So, what do we do about Billy?"

"Make sure he's still towing the line or he can swallow the next bullet..." A new voice answered from the doorway.

Flint's head shot up as Silver closed his eyes with a mumbled 'shit!' before he too turned to face the angry bosun, leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed and eyes angry.

"Isn't that right?" The tall man scoffed bitterly.

"Billy-"

"Spare me the lecture Silver," Billy interrupted, one arm raised and head bowed tiredly. "Your speeches may work very well on the rest of the crew but I am in the unfortunate position of not believing a word that you say."

"Unfortunate?" Silver asked back uncertainly.

"If i was stupid enough to believe the crap you feed them, I might also be fool enough to believe that some of us may still survive this."

Billy didn't move from his spot. Didn't lower his eyes from where they burning through both Flint and Silvers panic. One man scared of losing his shit sized meal ticket, the other scared of losing his... What? His lover? His favourite toy? His distraction, Billy scoffed at the thought.

"Billy-"

"No more descent against Flint..." The bosun growled, Silver raised his eyebrows, Flint was yet to raise his head. "We are none of us safe until we are all safe," he barked, pushing away from the door and taking a fierce step forward into the room. "But tell me, is the danger coming from the vast amount of enemies we've managed to accumulate, or from our own Captain and his dog?"

Silver threw himself up to stand then, impressively fast and steady considering his missing appendage, "Excuse me?" The quartermaster demanded, more a threat than a question.

"You put your stump through a mans head!" The bosun yelled back, not intimadated by the shorter man in the slightest.

"A deserter."

"A deserter with nothing left. No crew, no family, just a drunk in a tavern, racking up debts that would have killed him sooner or later anyway."

"A message needed to be sent!" Silver argued firmly.

"Oh fuck your lessons!" Billy shouted louder, taking another giant step forward. "They know," he yelled again, point behind him to the open cabin door, "No more desc-"

"-Descent against Flint," Silver finished agrily. "What the hell is that about."

"It's what I said to them," the bosun answered only marginally calmer, looking now straight at his Captain. "The night Dufresne deserted and took eight men with him, he thought I was meeting him there to be the tenth man..."

Flint looked up at this. Billy had told him the story, only after the older man had overheard a small part of a larger conversation between two of the men who backed Billy up that night. His bosun had told him everything, from the beginning. From getting fished out of the water, the torture he'd endured, a story Flint has not yet managed to forgive or forget, a vengeance he is determined to get for the man he can't breath without. He told him about the deal, why he had taken it. He explained why he'd told Dufresne about it, how it bought him the vote that Flint needed, but how, after that became moot the one time accountant had insisted they sell their Captain out. How Billy had agreed to that too, in order to weed out those who betray him and send them on their way quietly, to ensure as little fallout as possible. 

Upon learning of this, naturally Flint could not let it lie, especially seeing as Silver had overheard the conversation too. Flint left out most of the details when retelling the story to the one-legged man. He simple told him that Dufresne had planned a mutiny and that it had only failed due to the rest of the crews lack of interest. The two men had agreed that an example had to be made against any crew looking to follow in Dufresne's footsteps and so Silver had been given the chance to assert his own importance. Silver did not know anything of Billy's involvement... Until now.

"You involved?" Silver looked aghast, he didn't know if it was because of Billy's admission or Flint's response to it, the realisation that the older man had already known.

"It was my idea," Billy declared boldly. "Are you going to step on my skull too?" The taller man all but mocked.

Silver growled and clenched his fists, stepping toward the bosun with fire in his eyes. He was stopped in his progress by Flint rising and grabbing his arm, pulling his back and shaking his head when the quartermaster looked around in questions.

Billy rolled his eyes and scoffed. "It's what I said to my men," the bosun said again, bringing all attention back to him. "I told my brothers that we were none of us safe until we were all safe. I promised them that the best way to secure that end was to follow Flint and I let those that didn't agree leave."

"You just let them leave?" Silver asked incredulously.

"Yes," Billy shouted back, "And I promised those who stayed a way to survive. We are not idiots, they are not all stupid. They know there is risk and they know that one day they may enter a fight they will not come out of, they even understand that this particular crew has more of those type of fights than any other. But I foolishly belived that the threat to them came from the people outside of this ship. From England, or Blackbeard, or Vane. Not from their own Captain, in whos name they risk their lives everytime they enter those fights. So now it seems, I am to be a liar as well as a fool!"

Flint looked up at Billy then, really looked at him, finally meeting the other mans eyes. Silver, too, was looking at the taller man and all three were locked in a battle of silence. Billy unable to say more without saying something he would regret, the Captain unable to say what he wanted to say with the quartermaster in the room and Silver unsure of any words to resolve this particular situation.

Fortunately their stalemate was interrupted by the appearance of Mr Scott. The old and journeyed man walked through the opened door, unknowing of the situation inside, he strolled in determinedly and only froze in his advancement when he glanced up and saw the three men all standing and looking a varying degree of murderous and tired.

"We'll be approaching Tortuga for sunrise, as requested Captain," he said slowly, looking apprehensively around the other men.

"Thank you Mr Scott," Flint replied calmly, not taking his eyes off of Billy.

Mr Scott just nodded his head minutely, turning slowly to face the ships bosun and walking steadily towards him. "What you did for that man," he said quietly, Billy only turing to face him on the last word, but dropping all anger from his face. "It shouldn't have fallen only to you."

Billy looked at the older man for a moment, swallowed down whatever response was on his tongue, then nodded back to him gently.

"The men, Joji, Muldoon, they're looking for you." Mr Scott added to Billy before he turned and left as quietly as he'd entered.

Billy blinked his eyes, still looking to the spot that Mr Scott had just exited, then the bosun inhaled deeply before turning around and walking to the door.

"We're not finished here Billy." Silver shouted after him.

"I am!" Was his yelled response before Billy slammed the door behind him.

 

-X-

 

Billy paced the floors infront of the steps. How could he face them now? How could he go up onto that deck and look Joji in the eyes. Muldoon, Dooley, Degroot. They had all been there. He had banished their brothers in the name of the safety he had promised them, what was there to say to them now. But the bosun took a deep breath and shook the uncertainty off as he puffed up his chest and ascended the steps, squinting as the fading sun still managed to burn his eyes after a day spent in the bowls of the ship. He looked to the sky for a moment, the welcome warmth of the last remaining daylight enveloping him for the first time in hours. The bosun closed his eyes to savour the quiet before the inevitable storm.

A whistle and a shout broke his silent reverie. "Billy!" DeGroot called, from the bow of the ship where a small crowd had gathered.

The bosun nodded his head to the older man, took another deep breath and looked quickly back up to the glistening clouds. He then turned towards the cluster of brothers and finally started his approach. 'Here we go,' he thought as he climbed the steps to stand before them.

-X-

 

"Flint, we need to reign him back in," Silver protested as soon as Billy had left the room. "He still holds considerable sway with the men, they may be scared of you but they respect him and I, honestly, don't know which is stronger."

Captain Flint said nothing as Silver continued to mumble out plans and strategies, fears and worst case scenarios. The older man couldn't even pretend to be listening, fixated as he was with the look on his bosuns face, the hatred in his eyes, the unbribled anger. He had walked out saying he was done and Flint could not think passed the pain that caused.

"He forgave you Gates," Silver announced absentmindedly, "You think he'd forgive some boy he barely knew." 

This did catch the Captains attention. He flinched at the mention of his former quartermaster, at the memory of what happened to him, the feeling of taking his life.

"This is probably harder to forgive." Flint mumbled back, fighting with himself for some kind of distraction, willng his mind to focus on the maps in front of him.

"How do you figure that?" Silver asked back sceptically.

"Because, as much as he doesn't want to, Billy could see the reason behind Gates. He understands the threat he posed me. This child," Flint scoffed the last word, waving his hand dismissively to cover his own disgust at the necessary action, "Billy can't justify that."

"Well then we need to convince him otherwise," Silver responded instantly, looking suggestively at Flint as if this would finally get the older man more involved with this conversation.

Silence reigned again as Flint sank back into his chair, he raised his hand to his lips to bite distractedly against his hardening knuckles. Silver huffed out a long suffereing "I'll get on that shall I?" before storming out of the room, finally giving Flint some privacy. As soon as the door was shut behind the quartermaster Flint released the agonised breath he was all too aware he'd been holding in since first he'd retreated back to his office, perhaps even since he'd first turned around to look at the bosun after that fatal shot had rung out.

He'd scold himself for his actions if he were half the person Billy wanted him to be, this he told himself on repeat, over and over in his mind he questioned why he'd gona so far knowing Billy would not know how to forgive it. But wasn't that the point, the tired man considered. Yes, the young pirate had been a fool and his actions had nearly cost the crew dearly and irreperably, and at a time such as this it was important to take extreme precautions to avoid such mistakes being made. Scaring sense into the crew is a necessary part of war. It's unfortunate but its how it is. And Flint knew this, knew that he wouldn't have hesitated pulling the trigger for any member of the crew, despite age or intention, regardless of value. But perhaps, the reason he took it that far was only in part due to the war, and the message, and the punishment. Perhaps it was partly about, as more and more things seem to be for the Captain, Billy.

Flint scoffed to himself as he shook away the denial he'd built around himself in the last couple of hours. Yes it was about Billy, just as it was about himself. It was about them together. Because that is what was happening, whether they wanted it or acknowledged it or not. Flint and Billy were gravitating towards each other, they were growing dependant on each other, they were even putting each other before the ultimate goal they had set for themselves. It was a dangerous place for them to be and Flint was only too aware of the fact that he couldn't pull away even if he tried. The simple fact was he didn't want to.

And perhaps a part of him wanted to see how far he could push the bosun. Knowing that there was nothing the other man could do to turn Flint away from him, maybe there was a part of the Captain that hoped the same was true for Billy. This was a test in some parts, a test to see if Billy could be deterred from him, a test he'd hoped so hard that they would overcome but now it seemed far more likely he had indeed pushed too hard. How stupid, to test the thing you love like it owes you anything but what it has already given you.

But there was also another part of him that wanted to offer the man a way out. Billy had said that day, that he had no choice. That the men used to love him for his willingness to put them above all others but that now Flint was up there in his priorities and Flint had told him it was not too late to back away from that, to go back to them and leave him behind. But Billy had simply declared the choice had been made and he was unable to change it. This was Flint giving him another choice. And though he'd desperately wanted the younger man to choose him, it was a secret desperation, a hidden one that no one would ever know about, a weakness no one would see. And so the deed was done. The crew were as they should be and Billy was once again free from him, so Flint could go back to devoting himself to winning the war.

Except just because Billy had his out now, didn't mean that Flint did too. 

Captain James Flint did not cry, could not cry. James McGraw had never felt so close to tears.

-X-

 

Billy stood in front of his men, his brothers, his crew. All eyes on the young bosun, all with something to say. Billy decided he may as well start them off.

"An apology is owed, but it all seems rather bereft now."


	2. The Aftermath

Straight to the point, Billy thought, speak plain and honest. He owed the men that.

The bosun looked around the small circle of men in front of him, looking into the eyes of one man after that other. Slowly, though, his own honest eyes narrowed in confusion, the men were looking at him perplexed, not angry or murderous, not even scared, just baffled.

"What the hell are you talking about?" DeGroot asked the question all of the men obviously wanted the answer too.

Billy shook the confusion from his face, "Look," he said desperately, raising his hands placatingly, "I know I promised you safety, that I asked you to trust in Flint in order to surviv-"

"You can't promise that Billy," Muldoon spoke next.

"What?"

"Billy, what happened today is not your fault," Mr Scott assured, walking up the steps behind the taller man.

"You can't control Flint any more than we can," Dooley all but laughed at the idea.

"You thought we wanted an apology from you?" DeGroot asked, barely concealing his own laughter.

"You don't?" Billy replied incredulously.

"We want to offer you one," the older man affirmed.

Billy looked around the men quietly, noticing the way they were all nodding their agreement, the surprise still not wearing off.

"We shouldn't have left you to do that alone," Muldoon explanded sincerely.

The bosun swung around to look at Dooley as the dark haired man spoke next. "I dunno, I guess we didn't know what to do," he tried to explain. "Didn't know if the Captain would shoot us next if we tried to pick the poor kid up or something."

Billy all but gulped at those words, his heart plummeting at the newest glimpse into the real man behind the enigma he loved.

"But when you moved, when you picked him up and carried him away we shoulda helped. That shouldn't have been left to you."

"But then again, just cause Flint wouldn't shoot you, doesn't mean he wouldn't have shot one of us," Dooley joked, trying to ease the tension.

Billy's heart sunk further at his brothers ability to joke about just how expendable they were to their Captain. He knew that Flint held none of them in any real regard, he knew that the man would not miss a single one of them if they didn't make it our of the next battle. But this, to think that Flint could just as easily be the one to end their lives, to kill them on a whim, or to simply prove a point, this made him feel like the floor had been ripped from under him. He wanted more than that for his brothers, he loved this crew as family and to hear them laugh about how they could die next for no real reason than because a single man chose to pull the trigger, that carried with it a deep and profound hurt. And for Billy to be the noted exception, well that made it all the worse.

Misunderstanding Billy's mood falling further DeGroot stepped forward minutely and spoke as honesty as he could. "We were never going to side with Dufresne."

Billy looked up at his old friend then, eyes asking questions his mind couldn't form.

"The only reason we sided with him the first time was because of what Flint done to you."

"Well what we thought Flint'd done to you."

"There are alot of things we can forgive Billy, but what we thought happened to you ain't one of 'em." Muldoon added seriously.

Billy stood still, arms at his side and eyes on nothing but the floor. That had been why he was worried, he had been so angry because he had promised the men safety, he had taken them away from Dufresne in favour of Flint and now its proven that this route may just get them killed quicker. But somewhere during the course of this conversation Billy's anger had shifted, his fear had become of something else entirely.

"We don't expect you to control him Billy," DeGroot piped up again, "We don't expect you to keep us to protect us from his madness when you have no more an idea of what the Cap'ns gonna do next than we have."

"We didn't join Flint," Mr Scott said warmly, "We joined you." He affirmed. "We joined each other."

"Yeah," Dooley laughed, "And not cause we're fool enough to think we're all gonna survive this shit."

"Nah, because we know thems that don't have died so that thems that do... Well, will."

Billy looked again around the men stood encircling him, each looking as care free and as honest as the next. Care free at a time like this, Billy snorted to himself and forced a smile he knew the men were too distracted to see the flaw in. 

"Right!" Muldoon all but yelled, clapping his hands together excitedly. "Now that's all sorted and discussed," he mimicked snobbily, "It's the end of my duties for the day so I'm gonna go get meself nice and drunk and dream about some company that is a little bit warmer than you fine gentlemen, if you catch me drift."

"I dunno," Dooley joked back, "DeGroot's too old to argue, I'm guessin' you could get plenty warm with him if it took your fancy."

"Cheeky little fucker," the oldest crewman muttered fiercely as he swung an unsteady fist at the younger man.

"Nah, not my type," Muldoon laughed back, gently shoving the old man into a smirking Dooley. "Too much arse, not enough tits."

The three faught and laughed, throwing light-hearted punches and shoving each other down the steps en-route to the rum store and then on to their bunks. Billy watched on with a real smile this time, almost having forgotten that this was just as much a part of the pirates life that he knew as the fighting and dying was.

"You're still one of us Billy," Mr Scott stated, resting his hand gently on the bosuns shoulder. "You proved that again today, been proving it the whole time I've been on this ship. You may have got other stuff going on in that head of yours but that doesn't mean you can't still be a brother." With that the former slave squeezed lightly as he turned and descended the steps himself.

Joji, who had been there for the whole encounter, but had yet to add anything to the proceedings, stepped forward then. Billy had to consciously stop himself from taking a step back. The swordsman my be one of the strangest amongst them but he is also only of the silently smartest and Billy knew not to underestmate how much the other man knows. To his surprise though, the long haired warrior simply replaced his hand where Mr Scotts had just been and looked the bosun straight in the eye. "You alright?" He asked in as friendly a manner as Billy assumes possible.

The taller man just noded his head and held eye contact.

"Following Flint was the right choice," Joji stated matter-of-factly. "None of us regret that," he all but comforted the conflicted bosun. "Trusting him though... The men will follow you in most things, but they will not follow you in that."

"Nor should they." Billy agreed, not bothering to deny that he does trust Flint. He trusts him because he knows him, knows what to expect from him. He doesn't trust him to keep his brothers safe because he knows better than to think he cares about them. But he does trust that Flint is the one who will win this war. The men don't even trust him that much, how could they when they know nothing of him but what he has put them through. No they will never trust in Flint but they do trust in Billy and in Silver, and they trust in their faith in the Captain, that is all that matters now.

Joji smiled at Billy then, something like relief in his eyes, relief that Billy wasn't about to sell the Captain as the good guy, relief that Billy obviously still understands where each man stands in Flint's priorities. Billy understands very well that the men he loves as brothers are of no consequence to the man he loves as something else entirely.

"You may not be his priority," Billy says solidly, reaching his own hand up to grasp Joji's elbow firmly, "But you will forever be mine."

The promise is made and accepted, Joji nodded once before both men let go and made their way down to the lower deck to do something Billy has not done for far too long, they go to join their brothers in drinking and laughing and fighting and dreaming of home.

 

-X-

 

Flint paces back and forth from his desk to the door. His mind reeling with memories of the look on Billy's face. The look that signalled an end to everything Flint had never imagined he'd have again after Thomas. Just as the tortured man had finally come to terms with how much he felt for the bosun, how easy it was to let it happen and even enjoy it, need it in a way he hadn't let himself need anything before. Just as he was learning to embrace the side of him that was allowed to love another, he lost it.

His cabin felt cold and dry and far too small, too dark, too bleak. The cabin he'd somehow let become the quarters he shared with Billy, the company he'd taken for granted and now couldn't breath without. He wanted to be wrong, he wanted Billy to stroll through those doors as he did every other night and the two could talk or plot or drink or just fall into each other as they had done so many nights before.

He wanted to cling to the hope that after everything Billy may still choose him, the real him, startled as he was to realise that the real him now was the man on the deck who had shot a child who had no means to defend himself. James McGraw was a man with morals and scrupels and hopes and dreams. He'd tried to convince himself that McGraw was still in there, hidden from the atrocities he'd have to commit by Flint, the man the Captain simply pretended to be.

But Billy had helped him see that the two could no longer be seperate. He really was as much Flint now as he ever had been McGraw. The two had to exist together so that the Captain could love Billy alongside hating the hypocrisy of this cursed war. He had to have both sides of himself so that he could fight this fight without losing the reason as to why he joined it in the first place. But that really meant now was that the man whom Billy hated, the man who had shot one of Billy's brother in cold blood, the man who would do it again in a heartbeat, he too was the real him and if Billy hated that man then he hated James McGraw as well. Never had he imagined a feeling of such powerless than he felt as he walked around his quarters unable to find any reason with which to convince Billy to love him, to choose to love him regardless of how much he hated the man he was.

Hours passed slowly, or maybe it was minutes that had been stretched to hours. Flint couldn't switch off, he couldn't settle and he couldn't figure out what to do about any of it. He realised, alarmingly slowly, as he waited for a knock that he knew would never come, not least because at this stage Billy never bothered to knock anyway, that it had always been Billy coming to him. Of course it had, he had his own quarters, he had privacy and the blessing of being off limits whenever he saw fit to be. No one could barge into his cabin and demand his attention, no one could disturb them when they were in Flints little world. It made sense for it to have been Billy who had given up a bunk in the deckhouse of the ship, surrounded by the hammocks of the rest of the crew. It made sense but it still meant that it was always Billy doing the reaching out. In a desperate attempt to sate his anguised mind Flint threw himself toward the closed door of his quarters and pulled it open with a vigour that would have surprised him had he stopped to second guess himself. He slammed the door again behind himself and set off to find his wayward bosun

 

-X-

 

A rustling sound woke the drunken man as he fought against the early stages of a hangover. Movement was a common occurance in and around the bunks of the crew, but try as he might the surly drunk could not shake the sounds off and go back to sleep. Begrudgingly he opened his eyes to the world and invited in the dull candle light that still managed to be too bright for his sleep soft eyes. With a groan he turned to the source of the noise ready to give someone hell, only to find himself suddenly wide awake and frozen still. Captain Flint was peering around the room in search of something or someone and Muldoon groaned at having to be the one awake to deal with whatever situation was brewing.

"Oh, sorry sir, didn't realise you were down here." 

Was that DeGroot? Muldoon raised his head further and was slightly ashamed to notice that far from being the only man awake, it seemed in fact that he was the only man of his little drinking party who had actually yet succumbed to the alcohol and headed to the bunks. Joji, Mr Scott, Dooley, Silver, Howell, the gaunt looking man whos name he could not for the life of him remember, even DeGroot had outlasted him. Another groan slipped out as he threw himself back into the embrace of his hammock and reluctantly listened to the exchange.

"Where's Billy?" The Captain responded, straight to the point as usual.

Muldoon furrowed his brows and raised his head again to peer around the deck, noticing that Billy was, indeed, no longer sat beside Joji pretending to be interested in how the other man gets the perfect tip on his sword.

Silver raised his eyes to Flint, looking a mixture of concerned and smug, a hard look to pull off Muldoon thought to himself, but said nothing as to where the bosun had gone.

"Parden sir?" DeGroot hiccuped, "We all had a bit to drink, Billy you say?"

Muldoon laughed lowly to himself, at least he wasn't the only one affected by the rum.

"Yes," Flint remarked back, "Tall man, hard to miss, penchant for scowling. Ring any bells?"

Every man at the table either snorted, scoffed or laughed outright. It was only Mr Scott that maintained enough composure to actually answer the angering man. "He has taken to sleeping on deck Captain."

Flint instantly stiffened at this, eyes dropping to the floor in thought. "On deck?" He asked carefully.

"Yes sir," DeGroot spluttered back, Muldoon thought it might be better for everyone if he just stopped talking but he'd be damned if he could muster up the energy required to tell the other man to shut the hell up. "Last coupl'a weeks p'haps, guess he got sick o' all the snoring."

"Or the farting," Dooley laughed with a pointed look at the slurring man. DeGroot huffed but burped when he tried to retort.

"Maybe it's the smell?" Gaunt man with no fathomable name whispered like a secret, face a little too contemplative to take the suggestion as completely humerous.

"Or perhaps," Silver piper up then, "He just likes sleeping under the stars?" Dooler threw a loose nail at him.

Joji scoffed at the whole conversation before declaring proudly that the "Man can sleep where he wants, far as I'm concerned. As long as he is where we need him to be in the morning."

Mr Scott nodded his agreement, Dooley groaned, gaunt man continued contemplating, Silver smirked and DeGroot faceplanted the table. Muldoon went back to sleep.

 

-X-

 

Flint was muttering angrily to himself as he hurried up the stairs to the deck of the ship. He hadn't even considered how Billy had exlained his absence from the crews sleeping quarters. Why had he not thought about such details. Flint was usual such a thorough man, fine tuning every detail of every plan and not leaving a stone unturned. Yet he'd not even considered one of the most important elements to one of the most important, no the utmost important issue of them all. Keeping this secret safe, keeping Billy safe was his main priority and he'd left all aspects of it to the other man with no regard as to the hows or whys. He continued his angry journey up the ship until he reached the deck, there were several men meadering about on watch or at the ship's wheel and Flint made a note to ask Billy how he'd convinced them he was on deck when he obviously had not been. Then it struck the Captain that if the men had assumed Billy was up here because that is where they thought he'd been this whole time, when he had actually been in Flint's quarters, then whose to say Billy is even here now. 

"Captain?" one of the crewman asked from his position next to the mast.

"Is there a change of course?" The gap toothed man at the wheel asked, almost visibly excited at the prospect of something to do, even if it was something as simple as changing direction.

"Is Billy up here?" The Captain asked caustiously, his worry over whether it was a good idea to shine light on the lie that Billy was supposed to be here trumped by the Captains burning desire to just lay eyes on the younger man. How hard could it be to find one man on a ship with no exits.

"Umm," the two men looked at each other warily.

"I know he prefers to sleep up here than below deck," Flint added carefully, still not knowing how much of the lie each man knew.

The man by the mast sighed and shook his head, "He jus' tells some of the men that so's not to offend, ya know, on account of the stink they let of an that."

Flint raised his eyebrows in question and the man took the hint to continue. "He wan's em thinkin he stays up here under the stars or summit but I reckon he jus wan's some peace. S'actually been sleepin down in the lower decks, by all the ol' broken barrels and waste and stuff. The smell o'the rotten food masks the smell of the sweat. Clever really," the yellow toothed man shrugged.

Flint groaned to himself and made his way back down to the bowls of the ship, silently proud of his bosuns tactics. Some men thinking he was in one place, other men thinking somewhere different, both sets of men so proud to be in on the secret that neither bothers to check up on it.

Again, on his way down the second set of rotting steps, Flint briefly wonders why he's following the instructions of a man who assumes he knows where Billy is simply because that's the lie the bosun has been telling him for weeks. Still, the Captain thinks desperately, he's got to be somewhere.

 

-X- 

 

By the time the Captain has searched bunk deck, the uper deck, up top, down below, in the hull, the kitchen, the storage rooms and the armory, he was getting more and more frustrated, and therefore angry, with every step he took. Billy was seemingly no where. The Captain walked back through the crewmans quarters to see DeGroot has been left passed out on the table, Silver was sprawled across the bench, probably having insisted he was not tired, just resting his eyes for a moment, only to promptly fall asleep. Dooley had made a valient effort to reach his own hammock but had ended up in a star shape on the floor a good few feet away, and was that Muldoon with his upper half hanging incredibly painfully looking off of his own bunk with his face plastered against the floor? In fact, it seemed the only two who had made it securely back to bed was Mr Scott and Joji but the Captain still tread lightly so as not to wake anyone.

He chanced a glance at the bosuns hammock with a desperate plea that he was there, that he had finally been, found but the bunk was empty, swaying lightly with the movements of the ship. Flint closed his eyes and bit back a disappointed growl. Billy should be there, he shouted internally, fists clenched painfully as he pinched his eyes tighter to regain composure. Billy should be there in his bunk where Flint could find him and finally have this conversation. Except no, Flint thought solemly, Billy should not be there at all, he should be back in the Captains quarters, in Flints bed, with James laying beside him, entwined in him.

Suddenly the Captain opened his eyes, hope clenching in his chest as he thought of the only place he hadn't checked recently. Flint suddenly cared nothing for who he woke as he clambered as fast as he could through all the rooms of the ship, running into walls with the speed in which he was travelling. He darted to his cabin with his heart beating so wild that he could barely even hear his rapid breathing over the sound of the thuds. He stopped dead when he reached the door though, hand clenched around the handle just willing him to turn it. It was fear, Flint didn't bother to deny it, that was stopping the man entering the room. Fear that Billy may not be there after all, that he still hadn't found his way back to Flint, that he never would. Or maybe he was in there, just behind the door Flint is now leaning heavily against as if he could hear the other mans presence through the wood. Maybe Billy was sat just inside waiting for Flint to return so he could tell him out right that whatever they had was over, that he hated him and wanted nothing more to do with the Captain, that it had all been a mistake. If that was the alternative, Flint thought somberly as he finally started to turn the handle, then he'd prefer for the room to be empty.

It was not.

 

-X-

 

"What the fu-" Silver muttered as he heard a crash near the stairs. He saw Flint's boots dissappear up the last few steps then heard the groaning of another man who had been disturbed by the noise. The quartermaster turned slowly, willing the room to stop spinning, looking for the source of the groan. "What are you doing asleep on the floor?" He asked as he saw Dooley fumbling around with his hands.

"What are you doing asleep on the bench, quartermaster?" The other man scoffed, not looking up from where his nose was pressed to the floor, arms now raised and seemingly grabbing at the air.

"I was just resting my eyes," Silver protested, even as he relented to the urge to fall back onto the hard wood seat.

Dooley snorted loudly as he begrudgingly raised the upper half of his body in order to gain some heigth before he laid hands on what he was searching for and grabbed on, pulling the old, worn blanket down to cover his unmoving body. The man above him, who'd just lost their blanket, groaned and fumbled around, Dooley keeping as still and silent as possible until he heard the man resume his tired snoring. The dark haired pirate relaxed into the warmth of the blanket and promptly fell back to sleep. Silver wouldn't stop resting his eyes again until morning.

 

-X-

 

"What d'you suppose Flint wanted with Billy?" The night watchman asked from his current viewpoint at the bow of the ship.

"Dunno, he looked mad though," the Ship's steerer commented wearily.

"You think he's angry cause a wha' Billy did today?"

"Wha? Wrapped up that idiot who got hisself shot?"

"Yeah, p'haps the Cap'n wanted to make an example of him, didn't like Billy steppin in an coverin him up."

"He coulda stopped him, one more bullet an Billy woulda gone down too."

"Nah, Cap'n aint gonna shoot Billy."

"No, don't s'pose he would, he's not that stupid."

"No doubt he remembers what happened last time we thought he killed good ol' Billy Bones."

"Yeah well, he's the only reason I'm still here," one of the riggers spoke up from his seat on the floor.

"You don't think he's turned soft then, like Gates did? Ya know, followin the Cap'n instead'a us?"

"Nah, not Billy, not after what happened with those English bastards who tortured him. You heard wha' he said to Dufresne, he's still our brother."

"Fucking Dufresne, asshole woulda sold us all out for a easy parden."

"Yeh, Flint's a prick but a'least he's honest about it."

"An Silver?"

"They cut of his leg an he didn't blab, he's one a'us."

"An' between the three of 'em we might just make it through this shit."

 

-X-

 

"Billy," Flint breathed, unable to hold the word in as he finally laid eyes on the man he'd been searching for all night.

Billy was sat at the window, arms in his laps, fingers scratching against themselves. His head had been down as Flint walked in but he raised it upon hearing his name slip from the Captain's lips.

"Find what you were looking for?" The bosun asked snidely.

Flint exhaled a humerlous laugh, he shut the door behind him then leaned against it for a moment before turning to face the other man, obviously still very angry and unforgiving. The twisting hope in Flints insides was rapidly being replaced by panic and loss.

"How long have you been here?" The Captain managed to ask without his voice hitching or breaking altogther.

"Since you left," Billy answered honestly.

"You know I was looking for you?"

"Not at first," The bosun sighed, "Not really," he expanded, "Sort of figured it out when I heard you yelling at the new cook for potentially locking me in the store room though."

Flint snorted and looked back to the floor. "Why didn't you tell me you were here? Could have saved the poor man a very one sided argument."

"Needed some time alone, some space to think."

"Bill-"

"Don't" The bosun interrupted solemnly, he raised one hand to stop Flint from continuing in whatever he was about to say. "I have something to say and I need to say it before you give me any of your very clever, but still bullshit none-the-less, excuses."

Flint moves to defend himself but Billy stands abruptly and raises his hand higher in the air. "I need you to hear this and know its true, know its coming straight from me, no outside influence."

The Captain swallowed back the dread and slowly moved to lean against the desk, gesturing for Billy to continue.

"You know what my first thought was?" The taller man all but whispered after what felt to Flint like an eternity of silence but was in actual fact barely even a minute, raising his face to lock eyes with his Captain. "You shot a man younger than I was when I was made bosun of your ship, for a mistake he was too drunk to realise he'd made, to teach the crew a lesson they were scared enough to already know and my first thought was 'great, how am I gonna smooth this one out."

Flint furrowed his brow in confusion as Billy shook his head angrily. "My first thought after you shot a man who had no way of defending himself, was not for the man, was not for whoever in my crew could be next, was not even for myself. My first thought was for you and how I could possible make this better for you, make it work in your favour."

Flint dropped his head to stare at the floor, unwilling to acknowledge the moisture threatening to pool in the corner of his eyes. This sounded a lot like a goodbye speech and Flint was already preparing himself for the pain that would follow the next words out of Billy's mouth. Both mens heartbeat was rapid and uncompromising as Billy, too, looked down to floor and continued.

"It can't be about you Flint," the bosun said desperately. "It can't always be just about you!"

"Billy-"

"No I mean it. They are my brothers, they are my priority. That crew," Billy declared, thrusting his hand to the closed door of Flint's little world, "They are the reason I came back, they are the reason I didn't take Hume's deal and they are the reason I sent Dufresne on his way when he planned to simply save his own skin."

Flint quietly nodded his understanding as Billy took a breath before continuing. The younger man ran a distressed hand down his face and raised his other to rest on his hip, looking around the room at everything but Flint. "I mean to keep them safe," Billy said softly, "I'm not going to succeed for all of them," he acknowldged steadily, "But I will do all I can toward that end, even if it means defying you."

Flint nodded at this too, finally raising his eyes to lock with the shining orbs of his bosun, knowing he couldn't just hear what came next, he needed to see it too. "I will not question your leadership in front of the men," Billy asserted, voice still harsh but features softening slightly, "I will not question your ability as Captain or give the crew any reason to doubt your methods."

Billy's own eyes were glistening with something, be it moisture or anger or something in between, and Flint had to force himself to not look away, his pounding heartbeat doing little to distract him from the dread creeping through his body in preparation for the hurt coming his way.

"But if you raise your gun to another one of my brothers then you better have a damn good reason or I will intervene."

Flint nodded his understanding again, desperately waiting for Billy to just get it over with so he can finally just break down and the wait can be over. Billy nodded too then, taking a minute step forward.

"You're doing a terrible job hiding it," Billy remarked suddenly, drawing Flint's attention back to him completely, eyebrows raised in question.

"The crew," the bosun explained, "They know that you would kill any one of them with out a second thought," he stated coldly, making the Captain flince but he knew he couldn't deny it. "They know you'd kill any one of them, any one but me."

The two men resumed there staring contest then, Flint desperate to know what the right thing to say was, Billy having no clue. "Well," the Captain settled on when it became clear that his bosun wasn't going to say anything else just yet. "The last time they thought I'd killed you they mutinied, so I'm hardly going to kill you in front of them, they'd have my head."

Flint all but sagged in relief when Billy snorted out a laugh and almost allowed himself to smile. That was as close to the right thing as he could have gotten in that moment.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," the taller man joked back.

Flint laughed too, dry and humourless, "Billy..." he breathed again, his voice shaking as he exhaled. "I'm-"

"Don't apologise," Billy shouted back, "Please don't lie to me by pretending you're sorry, give me a little credit."

"I wasn't going to," the older man promised, "I was going to say that I can't promise it won't happen again."

Billy nodded resignedly at that, knowing it was true and hearing it was apparently two very different things, but Flint needed to be honest now because too much was at stake not to be. "I know who you are Flint," Billy all but whispered, like it was a secret even the walls could not know. "I used to think I did, but today I realised that the you I pretended I knew isn't the one that's been stood in front of me all this time. I knew who you were but I convinced myself you were someone different because that's what made sense to me."

So here it came, Flint dropped his head again, knowing he should look up at the other man and see him say these words, see the honesty in them so that, even though it would hurt more at least he wouldn't be able to delude himself that it wasn't over.

"It was me I didn't know," Billy sighed, "So ready was I to play the part of pirate that I forgot I was just a boy when you picked me up. This crew became my family and I love them as such and they trust me as a brother."

Billy took another step toward his Captain. "I didn't want to be someone who could betray their trust by falling into whatever this was," he motioned between him and Flint with a piercing regret that had the Captain almost crumble into himself, "With the very man they hated most. So I told myself I wasn't that man because you weren't that man. I told myself you were misunderstood. That you had your reasons. I convinced myself that James Flint was a cover you wore to protect James McGraw, and that under the cover you were exactly the man that our crew could respect and admire."

Flint could have laughed at the irony if he wasn't too busy trying not to suffocate from it. All of this time Billy that was helping him merge Flint and McGraw into one person, he was,, himself, trying to seperate them in his own mind in order to justify them doing whatever it is they have been doing. Loving, Flint told himself, they have been loving, and it has been everything to him, and now its about to be over because Billy finally knew who he truly was and he was just as unlovable as he's always feared he'd be.

"But you're not," Billy muttered, definite moisture pooling at two sets of eyes now. "You're entirely the man they hate, that they fear, that they believe capable of murdering me just to keep your secrets instead of trusting them to follow you even knowing the truth. And they're right. You could easily have killed me that day, you killed Gates, the closest thing you had to a friend and you broke his neck like it was nothing..."

Flint shook his head, whether in disgust at himself or at the memory, "It wasn't nothing," he all but pleaded back.

"But it was nothing today. You killed a man like it was the easiest thing in the world," Billy argued fiercely.

Flint stood tall then, pushing himself away from the desk and raising to his full height. Billy didn't move, just stood facing the older man with his arms now crossed in front of his chest sternly.

"So now you know the real me. James Flint... James McGraw... It doesn't matter, this is who I am and you can no longer pretend otherwise." Some of the tears that had been collecting in Flint's eyes finally broke free and started creeping a trail down the Captains cheek but the man refused to wipe them away. His stomach was knotted, his heart was beating irratically and his mind was fixated on the pain that followed the thought of Billy leaving these quarters for good.

"No I can't," the bosun mumbled apologetically and that tone is what broke Flint's resolve. How could he look at Billy when the bosun looked as lost and broken as he was. He didn't want that for the younger man, he definitely didn't want to be the cause of it. Flint looked down at his feet because he couldn't stand the thought of being the reason behind the pain in Billy's eyes.

And then suddenly Flint was being touched. A slight brush of fingers against his cheek, stilling the movement of that single tear he'd been unable to control. Flint's chest was rising and falling so fast that he was vaguely aware of just how unhealthy this whole business was but then the contact was back, only this time the fingers were firmer, pushing gently against his chin, forcing the older man to look up. Up into the deep sea blue eyes that held all of the answers, the eyes his whole world seemed to revolve around. And then the contact intensified, two hands came up to caress Flint's cheeks, the man now breathing more rapidly than ever before. Flint was unwilling to process what was happening because he was far too scared that all too soon the contact would be over and allowing for the hope that this wasn't the end only to have that hope ripped away again would certainly be too much for him to handle. So Flint stood tense and desperate, still, save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his eyes locked with Billy's wishing that he knew what the bosun wanted to see there so he could give it, so he could give the younger man everything.

And then it all came crashing down, Billy removed his hands from Flints cheeks and the older man all but whined at the loss, having prepared himself all day for the moment that Billy would walk away only having it now upon him, desperate but hopeless to stop it. Except Billy didn't pull away.

As quick as the contact ended it began again, this time Billy's hands found their way to the back of Flint's head and the taller man was leaning down to ghost his lips against Flints. The Captains brain short cirquited then and before he could stop himself he closed the distance between him and the man he loved and he locked the other man in a furious kiss. He poured everything into the contact, his one hand snaking its way around Billy's hips, the other pulling him closer around the bottom of his neck. The two breathed desperately into the kiss, Flint trying to express everything he had no time left to say, all of the sorry's and the promises and the love he felt with every brush of his tongue and lips. Billy responded in kind, holding on to his Captain with all the strength he could muster, devouring him like he was worried it could be the last time. They kissed liked the world was ending, even as Flint finally allowed the hope that perhaps this was just the beginning.

But, all too soon, Billy was pushing hard against Flints shoulder, shoving the other man back to break the kiss with a ragged breath.

Flint rubbed at his lips, savouring the taste of the other man, "I'm sorry," he muttered desperately, fearing he'd pushed too hard too fast. "Billy-"

"What did I tell you about apologising," the bosun scowled before throwing himself forward and grabbing hold of Flint again. "You need to hear this, and really fucking listen, OK?" Billy all but pleaded, his Captain swallowing the lump in his throat at nodding. "I'm not gonna ask you to change," the bosun whispered, "I meant what I said about you being the only one who can lead us through this shit. But I will ask you to please, spare some thought to my men, because they are all a part of me and I can't lose them for no reason. I can't let them down like that, I won't break that promise."

"Billy," Flint all but begged.

"I know most of them won't make it," Billy whispered, forehead pressed against Flints, both sets of eyes closed against the itensity of the contact. "I know most of them will die, but they don't have to die like that. Unaware and pathetic. At your god damn hands, just to prove a point... Each man out there is worth more than that Flint. You know that, I'm asking you to respect it. No more, no less."

"And if I can't?" Flint asks back desperately, as scared of the answer as he is of not asking the question. "If the same that happened today happens again?"

The next few moments of silence are the most exhausting and terrifying of both mens lives, everything rides on what Billy says next and Flint clutches so hard onto the other man that he's scared he won't be able to let go even if Billy asks him too.

"It won't matter," is what finally escapes the bosuns parted lips, with a humorlous laugh and a small shake of his head. Flint exhaled sharply as Billy kissed him again, short and sharp. "I know who you are Flint," he says seriously, "And I love you."

"The men are right about me," Flint whispered back, holding tight onto Billy so as not to let him go, even as his words ae designed to offer the man an out. "They look at me and see a monster."

"And yet I choose you," Billy said softly, honestly. "I guess that makes me the monster."

Flint sagged in relief and joy and surprise and about a hundred other emotions he is far too distracted to deal with right now as he clutches onto Billy's shirt and he growls into the taller mans lips. "Christ Billy," he mutters intensely, scrambled to pull the other man down to him again, "So help me, I love you too!" 

Flint gasps into the next kiss, feeling like a boy being touched for the first time as he struggles to keep himself composed, his only consolation being that Billy seems to be having the same trouble and eventually both sets of legs give out and the two men end up in a puddle of limbs on the floor, both pulling at eachother to get impossibly closer.

Billy brings his hand up to wrap around Flint's neck as he once again breaks the kiss in order to breath. "Fuck" Flint exhales into the taller mans mouth. "I can't tell you I'll care any more for the men tomorrow than I do today," Flint declares honestly, to which Billy just shakes his head and presses closer. "But," Flint says louder, reluctantly parting from his bosun long enough to look into his eyes and proclaim "But I can promise that I will do anything to I can protect you from pain," he says brushing his own hands across Billy's cheek. "Even the pain of loss," Billy kisses him again, "Especially the pain of guilt." The bosun pushes Flint's arms out of the way so he can reclose the distance between them, "Just... I can't lose you Billy." Billy kisses him hard, the Captain swallowing promises of "I'm not going anywhere," and "You can't get rid of me that easily."


End file.
